


Home holds the answers

by 22310



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Cats, Civil War Fix-It, F/M, Gen, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Outsider, POV Steve Rogers, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-05 15:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/22310/pseuds/22310
Summary: He walked to the Smithsonian. He knows that that's true - he was Bucky Branes. Or rather - he used to be him. He is not that person anymore. So he can't go to Steve. And - he put three bullets inside Steve and ruined his face. He killed a lot of people. The government is after him. And so is Hydra. So he decides to walk, running from them. But it's the 22 October and the temperature is 4 Celsius, and he needs someplace warm to stay. That's how he finds himself in a apartment with a bit weird roommate in Brooklyn, working nights in a local Russian bar.The story follows Bucky on the run until the developments of Civil War, and fixes what happened in the movie.





	1. James

**Author's Note:**

> The italic text means it's Russian; the bold - any other languge. That's pretty important.

It was 22 October and the temperature went down to 4 Celsius at night. That’s when James realized that his plan on being on the run wasn’t going to work. Not like he had a particular plan. The original one was keep moving, so they – Hydra, the government – won’t catch him, but somehow he found himself hanging around Brooklyn. It was a miracle that Steve didn’t find him – as far as he knew, Steve was looking for him around the world, following the leads of the Hydra files, and maybe it was the right thing to do, if James had stuck to the original plan. But he didn’t. So he was in Brooklyn, going from street to street, and everything was almost fine, until it started to get cold, and he realized he needs a warm place to go through this winter. He probably could have just gone somewhere where it’s warmer, but something made him want to stay in Brooklyn. He didn’t know what. He was pretty sure he was born here, but it didn’t feel like a good enough reason. It had something to do with Steve, he knew it. Steve and Brooklyn were connected in his brain, even if he didn’t quite realized how. To conclude – he needed a place. He looked in the newspaper and on the internet on the library computer – he wasn’t sure how he knew how to use it, but now he almost got used to not asking why he knows or doesn’t know stuff. All the apartments he found were too expensive – he stole some money from couple of Hydra bases that he took down in the chaos of SHEILD and Hydra falling down, but it wasn’t enough to pay for an apartment for all of winter. He needed a job, but it’s not like he had any id to show or anything, really, to put on his resume. So he kept walking around Brooklyn and somehow found himself standing in front of an apartment building that looked old and poor. On the wall was stuck a piece of paper on which was written in messy handwriting in Russian  
  
_Looking for a roommate. Has hot water. Don’t need any documents. Can hook you up with work without any documents in a Russian bar. Requirements: keep quite during the day, I sleep; know Russian – but if you are reading this you probably do; don’t do drugs; don’t get in troubles with the police. Warning – the apartment is pretty shitty. There is no beds, so if you need one – buy one. I have a cat._

_Dmitry._

_If you want – come to apartment 2 on the 1 st floor any time between 3pm and 10pm. Knock, the bell is fucked. _

James checked his watch. It was 5:26pm. Probably, that was the best offer he could find. He shrugged to himself and walked to the 2nd apartment. He knocked on the door, and after a long minute a guy, who looked like he just woke up, opened the door. His eyebrows shoot up, then he huffed a laugh, then his expression went blank.

 _“You are here for the apartment?”_ he asked.

James tried to understand the strange reaction, but decided it didn’t matter.

 _“Yes,”_ he said, his voice rough from not being used for weeks.

 _“Okay. I’m Dmitry. I’ll show you around if you want?”_ Dmitry sounded like he was not sure what he is supposed to do, and James was relieved that he is not the only one felling that way.

 _“Yeah. Um. I’m James,”_ it felt weird to say the name out loud, even if he called himself this the past couple months, after he went to the Smithsonian and there the exhibition brought out memories that confirmed that yes, he was Bucky Branes, or used to be him, long time ago, in another lifetime. And he couldn’t call himself Bucky. He wasn’t Bucky, not the Bucky that Steve knew, not the Bucky that smiled to Steve on this pictures in the exhibition. So he decided to call himself James, because a person needed a name, and that was a name he had rights on, and he was a person, wasn’t he? But until now he never actually got to say the name out loud, and that was. Weird.

Dmitry visibly fought a smirk for some reason, but just nodded, gesturing to James to come inside the apartment. The apartment was pretty big, with a kitchen, a bathroom and a huge bedroom that was divided to two by a carpet, hanging from the ceiling. The carpet didn’t allow to see anything that was in the other part of the room, but Dmitry pushed it aside and told James he can come to see the other part too, if he wants. There was a sleeping bag on the floor, a chair, on which laid ginger cat, and books everywhere – on the chair under the cat, on the sleeping bag, on the floor.

 _“Sorry, I just woke up, didn’t have time to clean. Cat’s name Lilith. It’s probably a bit weird, how the place divided, but I lived here with a roommate before, and it worked”_ Dmitry said.

 _“Why are you looking for a new roommate?”_ asked James, suddenly concerned.

_“The last one died”_

James blinked, then remembered he should say something to this. He mumbled, _“I’m sorry”_. Dmitry smirked and waved him off.

 _“So,”_ Dmitry started, _“do you do drugs?”_

_“No… Not for a long time, and before it wasn’t… A doctor gave me drugs then”_

_“Doctor, huh?.. Okay. Have any documents?”_

James shook his head.

_“Need a job?”_

_“Yeah, actually, I do”_

_“Well, alright. But the job I can get you is night shifts in a bar. You okay with that?”_

_“Sure,”_ James nodded.

_“So, the payment is 850 dollars per month, which makes 425 for each. The gas and the electricity are on the landlord. If you want to, you can move in today, then we’ll go to my work together, I’ll introduce you to the boss, and most likely you will be able to start today. Do you need to bring anything?”_

_“No,”_ James said. Then: _“Thank you”_

 _“Sure, whatever. Here’s your spare kay, fell yourself at home. I’m going to sleep a bit more”_ and he disappeared behind the carpet.

James stood there for about five minutes, trying to realize what just happened. So. He got a place. Suddenly he felt all the tiredness of the last two months taking over. He checked the windows, but didn’t see any possible treat, so he rolled his sleeping bed open, lay inside it and only had time to think “sleep mode: 2 hours”, and he was gone.


	2. Dmitry

Dmitry woke up from the sound of water running in the bathroom. Ah, right. He had a roommate now. The Winter Solider – James. James was the Winter Solider, Dmitry knew it. But, judging by the man’s behavior this afternoon, Dmitry realized, maybe it was more accurate to say that James used to be the Winter Solider. Anyway, it didn’t actually matter. James clearly didn’t remember him, or maybe even anything else. If he did remember, he’d go to live with the Captain, wouldn’t he? And he sure as hell wouldn’t have entered to Dmitry’s apartment.

 _“Hey, Andrey, looks like after all there is no way to escape from the past, huh?”_ He whispered, _“hey, Andrey… Wish me luck”_

He took the gun from under his pillow, pushed it under the waistband of his pants and exited the room. James was already in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Well, at least he seems like a fully functional human being. Last time Dmitry saw him he was fed through a tube. Dmitry looked at the pack of cigarettes laying on the kitchen table and thought that in order to exit the apartment to get a smoke he will have to put on a coat, even if technically the cold won’t do anything to him, it’s still uncomfortable, and by now Dmitry was pretty used to everything being comfortable. Maybe it was a bad idea, to get used to the comfort, but since he left Russia no one showed sings of trying to catch him, recognizing him, or trying somehow control his life. The old man that lived with him before tried to make him stop smoking, sure, but that was about all. And he did it, not to control him, he did it because he thought smoking put Dmitry’s health in danger. So it was actually kind of nice.

Dmitry took a long breath. Yes, he was getting spoiled, and it was dangerous, but no way that he was exiting the apartment before he had a proper breakfast. So, only one opinion left.

 _“Good morning,”_ he told to James, with a smile that was almost not forced, _“Mind if I’ll smoke in the window? I can go out, of course, if you mind, just…”_

 _“Nah, that’s okay,”_ James waved him off, _“and – good morning? You aware that it’s 8:30 pm?”_

 _“Yeah,”_ Dmitry chuckled _“more like noon in my books, you are right,”_ He opened the window and lit a cigarette _“Want one?”_

James looked at the cigarette for a long minute, as if he didn’t remember if he smoked. He probably didn’t, Dmitry realized. Finally, James nodded and Dmitry handed him a cigarette. James took it, with still confused expression, but after few drags he seemed to relax. Dmitry sucked on his cigarette, studying James’ face from the corner of his eye. Freedom looked good on him, even if it was obvious that he was on the run and lived on the streets the last few months.

 _“What brings you to Brooklyn?”_ Dmitry caught himself trying to make a conversation. Well, there is a first time for everything.

_“I don’t know. I was a solider, left me with almost no memory, but Brooklyn fells familiar”_

_“Look at this,”_ said Andrey’s voice in Dmitry’s head, _“you are not the only one who is good at lying through saying the truth. Maybe you two should do a competition. Choose someone, don’t tell them even one lie about yourselves, see who will be recognized first…”_

Dmitry smiled warmly to Andrey’s stupid idea, but hurried to wipe the smile off his face, knowing that it’s really not the time to smile. Or worse, to admit to his new roommate that he has voices in his head.

 _“I’m sorry. That really sucks,”_ suddenly he realized something, _“I really hope you being a soldier has nothing to do with how well you know Russian, and I’m not triggering you right now, or something, I know Russian and American armies sometimes… disagree on things, so if Russian isn’t okay, we can talk in English, I know English”_

Dmitry caught himself rambling, but, really, what was he thinking? The words that activated the Winter Solider were in Russian, and most of the Hydra agents (scientists, operatives, just motherfuckers that did unknown something there) spoke to him in Russian for the past two decades at least. Of course Russian was triggering.

 _“Dumbass”_ Andrey said. Dmitry wanted to point out that Andrey didn’t think about it too, but he knew what he will answer. That he is only a projection of Dmitry’s own brain. And of course Dmitry knew it, but it didn’t hurt any less to hear it for the 1000th, probably, time. Also, of course, the fact that he wasn’t alone in the room.

Surprisingly, James shook his head.

_“I actually have no idea where I know Russian from, but probably you are right, and it’s from the time I was a solider… Anyway, I’m okay with speaking Russian. And it was one of your requests to someone who wants to be your roommate”_

_“Okay,”_ Dmitry said, knowing that if he will fight James on this, James may understand that Dmitry knows about him much more than any random guy should.

He threw away the cigarette butt, filled Lilith’s bowls with cat food and water and made himself coffee and ramen. James finished his coffee and exited the kitchen. Dmitry started to spin a knife in his hand, staring at the wall like it held all the answers in the universe. Something in him – guilt, maybe – shouted that he should help James, or at least be a friend for him, because he clearly didn’t have any in the past, what, 70 years? But other part of him screamed that he’s putting himself in danger by simply allowing James to stay in the apartment. He reminded this part that he did need the money, and the man who used to be the Winter Solider sure as hell knows how to fight, so it’s not like he is in real danger. But Dmitry didn’t know what to say to the first part. Yes, he’ll try? He didn’t have any guaranties that he would be really able to help James, and he hadn’t had any friends for 8 years now, he didn’t know how to be a friend. No? Wave of guilt went through him. He had to at least try to do something. He won’t forgive himself if he didn’t try, and he had enough of things he will never forgive himself for.

He exited the kitchen and saw James playing with Lilith. Lilith tried to bit James on his left arm, which Dmitry knew was a stupid idea, her teeth making a terrible sound on the metal, and James looked up in what seemed like very well hidden panic, so Dmitry pretended he didn’t notice, instead asking James if he had anything to do until 10 pm.

 _“I can borrow you some books, if you want,”_ Dmitry said, when James shook his head, _“I have plenty. Fiction, non-fiction, history books, even “_ **Mein Kampf** _”, if you are interested in how sociopathic brain works”_

James visibly scoffed at the mention of “Mein Kampf”, which brought Dmitry to the conclusion that he did remember some things, after all, or at least started to remember.

 _“Fiction would be great,”_ James said.

_“It’s mostly Russian classic literature, but I have also 1984 in English, Lolita, which most of the people think is also Russian literature, but originally it was written in English, the translation to Russian is not even that good, though I have it in both English and Russian, you can compare yourself if you want. Also there is The Catcher in the Rye, which is a bit childish, but good, a lot of Duma, but they are in French, and some, um, fantasy my sister used to read”_

_“You have a sister?”_ James asked, sounding somehow distant, as if trying to remember something.

_“I had. She died when she was 12”_

_“I’m sorry,”_ James said, sounding like he mean it, _“why – if that’s okay to ask – why did she die?”_

Dmitry bit his lip, thinking how to answer this, without making it clear who he was. Of course, he could lie, but that seemed unfair. After all, James hadn’t lied to him yet, even said his real name.

 _“He gave you a way out of this,”_ Andrey said, _“just tell him you can’t talk about it. Which is not even a lie, you really can’t”_

Dmitry nodded to Andrey’s words, taking a deep breath.

 _“I would really prefer not to talk about it, if that’s okay. Not really the best memories,”_ (“not the worst ones either” – he didn’t say)

 _“Sure, yeah, I’m sorry”_ James said.

 _“So, um, about the books?”_ encouraged Dmitry.

_“Right. You said something about Duma? Do you have The Count of Monte Cristo?”_

_“Yes,”_ Dmitry said, and then, in French: **“You know French?”**

 **“Can’t speak it properly, but enough to understand a conversation or read a book, yes”** James answered. He had some accent, but spoke pretty clear.

**“Good. I’ll give you the book and go to study, okay? We need to get moving at 10 pm, until then fell free to read or keep Lilith busy or… Well, do whatever you want”**

**“Sure,”** James nodded. Dmitry brought him the book and went to study. After all, he lost enough time today, and if he wanted to get into college next year, he had to study harder.


End file.
